


Take My Hand (and Slide Into Another Dimension)

by DustySoul



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mistaken Identity, Original Character(s), Parallel Universes, Supernatural Elements, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustySoul/pseuds/DustySoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."</p><p>Joan is the first on what seems to be a very interesting scene, and after some preliminary rooting around concludes that it's just an animal attack. A big animal attack. A wolf maybe. In the middle of New York city... There's nothing, just the improbability of it all, to suggest otherwise.</p><p>On her way to meet up with Sherlock she runs into a stranger. A very familiar stranger who greets her like a close friend...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crit most certainly welcome!  
> Not beta-ed.

It was your average, run-of-the-mill Tuesday with a corpse missing a heart, liver, and a good ⅓ of it’s small intestine. Joan figured it out in less than five minutes.

“Sherlock? Sherlock?” She said into her phone, walking briskly to the station. Static sounded in her ear.

“Yes, Joan, what is it?”

“Scene’s a bust. Just a large animal attack.”

“Large animal?”

“Yeah, the cops were thinking cannibal, but the teeth marks are definitely canine. They collected some saliva from the attacker which will confirm it.”

Muffled words,  Sherlock telling Kitty the news. “Quite unusual.”

“I know, but not really part of the police purview. Besides, who wants to track down some stray mutt?”

A cloud passed over the sun and a gust of wind blew through Joan’s coat. She shivered, her cellphone crackled with static. “Sherlock?” She called.

The static reseeded. “Sherlock?”

Nothing. She pulled her phone away and looked at the screen. Black. She pressed the power button, uncomprehending. She was good about charging her phone and it definitely had 80% power when she’d dialed...

She scanned the block for a cafe or diner, any place that’d let her use an outlet. The streets were inexplicably empty. _Not good_.

She started walking again, picked up the pace. Swiveling her head this way and that, her body quivered with adrenaline, tense with fear and anticipation. _Something’s really wrong_.  

A woman practically ran into Joan. Joan stared at her, at the alley she seemingly materialized from.

The woman struggled to catch her breath, when she finally did she exclaimed, “Joanie!” In a voice that sounded almost familiar, filled with a warmth that was not quite polite, not quite normal... but, that seemed natural in flow of her name.

“I’ve been all over for you.” The glimpse of affection was gone, replaced with a clipped factuality. “Listen, we don’t have much time.” The stranger said. The words glanced off Joan as she took her in. She was about six feet tall, with thick, brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Free strains caught by the wind and danced around her angular face.

“I’ve confirmed the breach, and we need to head back to the brown stone.” The woman took Joan’s arm and pulled her up to the front door of one of the row houses lining this block. Joan staggered, her mind reeled. She couldn’t think of anything to say, couldn’t find the words to protest.

The stranger placed her hand on the door knob, another gust of wind swept brutally across the block. “You ready?” She asked.

Joan was about to say ‘no’ about to yell, ‘who the hell are you?!’ but when the woman smiled, and she was staring into grey-blue eyes she lost track of her thoughts, was breathless. A sense of adventure, and of comfort and familiarity overcame her. (Just like starting a new case.) She nodded.

The woman clasped her hand, threw open the door, and jumped, Joan tumbling after her.

The inside of the row house didn’t appear out of the ordinary in the brief seconds Joan glimpsed before she was falling. It was in disrepair and dusty, and not much was visible past the outside light illuminating the floor boards. Once they were both past the threshold everything went dark. They were falling -- falling for much farther than just the distance to that forgotten hardwood floor.

Joan couldn’t catch her breath. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She was overcome with a sense that the entire world was flying past her.

And then, it was over. What ever ‘it’ was. And they were standing in a graveyard, hand in hand. The sky above them was full of stars.

“What, the **hell** was _that_?” gasped, shuddered Joan. She tugged her hand free from- from- from this complete stranger’s.

The woman raised her eyebrows, “Well, sliding between worlds of course.”

“Oh. Oh, of course.” She laughed, feeling hysteria pounding against her chest. Her head spun. _Sliding between worlds? What the hell does that mean?_

The stranger’s face fell, and creased in concern. “Joanie, are you alright?” She reached out to touch Joan’s arm but Joan swatted it away.

“Don’t touch me!”

Hurt flashed in the woman’s eyes.

“Where are we?”

“Shadowlyn Cemetery.” The woman said, like Joan should have known that. Like she was concerned Joan didn’t know that. “You didn’t, um, hit your head, did you?”

“No. No. Shadowlyn Cemetery.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. Shadowlyn Cemetery.” Another breath, she turned to the stranger, “And, who the _hell_ are you?”

The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times, “J-Joanie?”

“And how do you know my name!?”

Her expression shifted, her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly. “ _Shit_.”

“What?” Joan said, starting to calm down. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her breath clouded in the air.

The woman turned slightly, and looked past Joan. “... Well… It looks like you’re stuck here.”

Joan turned to look as well. In the graveyard behind them was a giant statue, probably meant to be an angel but it seemed too…  foreboding… demonic, even weathered down to be almost featureless. Joan shivered. “What do you mean?”

“If we could go back through this way- you know what? Never mind. I need breakfast, I’ll explain this all over breakfast.”

The stranger led her to a diner, one of the only building’s lit this early in the morning. They were seated and served in quick order. When the stranger didn’t start talking after a few sips of her tea Joan demanded, “Well, explain.”

The woman rubbed her face, “I- don’t quite know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with who you are, where I am, and how I got here.”

The woman smiled, almost pained, “My name is Cherie Holmes. I work as a consultant with the NYPD. You are in a different parallel universe. It’s designated N81453. And you and I walked through a place where the separation between worlds was thin, that's how we got here.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Joan checked her phone again. Still no reception. The streets were starting to crowed with people. She was trying not to panic. _Cherie wouldn’t just leave you. Besides, you can get by fine on your own. You’ve done it before, you’ve done it before.._.

Except… Except that this world look like it had never been in contact with any others. And it looked like there was no magic here. The only hope she had for reaching Cherie on her cell was if the both of them were standing in a spot where the worlds bled over.

“Watson!”

Joan spun around. A man waved at her. _The blue eyes, the facial structure, the clothes._ This is Cherie. At least, this universe’s Cherie. She strided over to him, “Hey.” She tried not to sound like she’d just been hyperventilating over the thought of being alone, lost and stuck in the wrong universe. A universe without magic. A universe that hadn’t yet been tangled with any others. ( _Oh god…_ )

“Some, um, the case.” He said, gesturing to the building they stood in front of. Joan followed him in, “Canine, did it, you said?”

 _Werewolf_. “... Uh, yeah. A- large canine.”

“That’s a lot of meat, for one dog, I mean.”

“...Could have been a pack.”

“In New York?” They strode into the police station. Joanie scanned the list of divisions. Nothing that might handle supernatural creatures, magic, or universe travelers. Bad news. There could still be something on the national level… Some knowledge of the reality of the cosmos, and the people that slip through it... “Canis lupus familiaris.” The man’s words cut through her thoughts.

“Uh, what?”

He turned to her, quirked an eyebrow, “You seem awfully absent this morning, are you alright? Is it a man?”

Joan almost stopped in her tracks, almost choked on her own saliva. “No, I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather.”

The man smirked at her, and made an intellectual sounding but crude remark about her, “Not getting regular coitus.” Joan bit the inside of her cheek.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Canis lupus familiaris, the attack is rather vicious for a domestic dog. It might have been trained and ordered. It might have been some kind of sick torture, we shall have to see what the autopsy shows. I might believe it was a wolf escaped from a zoo, but I checked all the reports of escaped animals, and any wolf still out there would have to be quite old. I’ve already contacted the zoos, and they’re willing to give us details on the dentistry of these animals, so that we might match it to the bite marks on the victim.”

“Right.” Joan thought back to the body that morning. She’d been tracking the werewolf after sunrise, not considering that it _hadn’t turned back yet_. Or, that it wouldn't turn back at all... not in this universe at least... “The body, uh, didn’t show any signs of captivity. No marks on the wrist or ankles to indicate bondage, and there were no injuries on the posterior as one would get when fleeing, or defending oneself from a large… beast.” The wolf had sprung on the victim before he knew what happened, going straight for the throat. Joan could feel her shoulders tighten and her hands curl into fists. She made an effort to relax.

The man huffed unhappily.

Joan’s phone pinged. She pulled it out, trying not to let her excitement show. She could feel the man staring. “I have to take this.”

A small smirk crossed his face. “Well, tell him ‘hi’, for me.” And he turned around and walked on.

She stepped the the side of the hall and dialed Cherie’s number.

Cherie picked up after the second ring, “Joanie?”

“Yes, hi, where are you.”

“Miss Minnie’s Diner.”

“So you…”

“Made it back. I did. I also uh, brought your counterpart with me.”

“Yeah. I’ve found yours as well.” She glanced at the man, he was now talking to a Detective Inspector she recognized, back in their world, he was quite gifted with magic.

“Oh?” interest colored Cherie’s voice.

“Yeah.” Joan sighed. Static crackled over the line. “Do you have a plan?”

Cherie hummed. “Can you create a weak spot where the body was found?”

Joan thought about it, “... Probably not.” It would be the weakest point between worlds for a while, but by the time the crime scene was cleaned up, the opportunity would have vanished.

“I have to work my way back there anyway. I’m not really sure how to do that… God, there’s so much work when you find yourself in a new dimension. Do you think the connection will hold?”

“No. There’s no magic here at all. No way for anyone to purposefully tie the dimensions together. Our side will be the only one to be able to come and go, and you know what a headache that is.”

“Yeah, what a shame. So, the plan is, 1.) Switch Joans 2.) Catch this werewolf 3.) Cut off the worlds.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll get working on that first one for my end, you got the second?”

“Sure…” Tracking down a big bad wolf in the middle of New York city… Joan shuddered. _Well it wasn’t impossible_. And even if this universe didn’t have magic _she did_. She could do this, somehow. It was going to work.  _Everything's going to be fine._

“Alright, that’s a start. I’ll talk to you later? I need to explain… well, I need to explain _everything_ to your alter ego over here.”

“Yeah, alright, Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Hay, see you soon?”

She strode over to the Detective Inspector and the man.

“Hello, Joan.” He smiled at her, “Sherlock was telling me about this, uh, dog, wolf, uh, thing. That attacked someone?”

“Actually-” Sherlock (and it was so good to finally know his name) cut in, “there’s a fairly good chance it’s a murder weapon. Depends and a couple of things-”

“No, it was definitely some freak attack.”

The Inspector looked between them, raised his eyebrows. Sherlock was glaring at her.

“What?” Joan crossed her arms, self-conscious.

“It’s just… you two never disagree. At least not on cases.”

“Do you think it was rabies?” Sherlock said, anger sliding off him in his finicky half steps and stiff gestures.

_What?_

“Because, with all the factors involved, there is no way to be certain, at this point, that a dog was not used to torture that man.”

“The teeth would have been filed.”

Sherlock blinked at her.

“Elaborate.” The detective inspector said.

“The type of person who would train dogs to do that to a person, to use a dog as a weapon, would file their teeth. It’s a calculated thing to do and it’s a huge time investment and to maximize effectiveness the dogs teeth would have been filed. In the bite marks, the teeth weren’t filed. And the bread of dog would be short hair, so nobody could grab it. The hairs I saw at the scene were long. This is a freak attack. Maybe it’s rabies. The autopsy will show us.” Her voice faded. _The autopsy will show some disease, but it won’t be rabies. God, time’s running out._

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cherie explains to Joan what her relationship to Joanie is. Joan gets a glimpse into what might be her future, into the balance of professional and personal she's been craving in her life.

“So” Joan said as she sipped her black tea, which, because she was currently sitting in a run down dinner in a parallel universe at five in the morning, tasted faintly like cherries. “What you’re telling me is… you are Sherlock, kind of. And this uh, this place is almost exactly like my world, only things have strange names and some people are witches, and their are monsters.”

“More or less.” Cherie was studying her. “You seem to be taking this rather well.”

“I suppose… it maybe just hasn’t sunk in.” She gave the woman across from her a tight smile. “What’s, um, you’re plan. To… fix this, get me back to where I belong.”

“Well, first my Joan is going to track down the werewolf loose in your world-”

“How?”

“Uh, she’s a very powerful witch. Even in a world with no magic, she’ll still have her own power. I imagine she’ll come up with a tracking spell of some kind. Anyway, she’s very resourceful and I have no doubts in her ability.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, my Joan will track down the werewolf while I look for more weak points between our worlds. We’ll travel back, meet up with my Joan, and she and I will take the werewolf back here and seal off the weak point.”

“So, I’ll- I’ll never see you, or, or this world, or any other world’s like it ever again?”

Cherie shook her head, “No. It’s not uncommon for magical universe to be bleeding over into each other, or even into non magical universes. But it’s very, very rare for any bleed over in mundane universes. It may happen that another fae might find itself in your world, but the chances of it making contact with you are very, very small. The fact that this has happened to you at all is quite exceptional.”

“… What are you thinking?”

“Hmm?”

“You- your expression, it looks an awful lot like Sherlock’s thoughtful face.” Joan tried to tamper down on her excitement, sense of adventure. She’d never see this world again. Or world’s like it. And Cherie, since she was basically Sherlock, probably wouldn’t tell her what as on her mind. At least not now. (But if not now then when? When would this all go down.)

Joan refused to give into the impulse to bite her cheek or grit her teeth, it was too obvious a tell. She couldn’t tell if she was home sick, anxious to get back to where she belonged, or melancholy at this  glimpse of something that could have been so much more. Something, she could have had if only the parameters to her existence had been slightly different.

“Just… Just that” Cherie sighed, “There is a small chance that you are a… witch in a mundane world. It has been known to happen.”

“What would that mean?”

“Well, it would mean that you have some small power to manipulate events in your world. Things would be more likely to turn out the way you willed them to. You would be ‘lucky’. Oh, and know, just because my Joan is a very powerful witch in this world, doesn’t necessarily mean you have any power in yours.”

“Is their a correlation?”

“A… small but undeniable one, yes.”

“Well… how can I find out.”

Cherie smiled. You could do small magic here. And, back in your world, magic things will be drawn to you. Like the werewolf.

“So…” Joan titled her head.

“So maybe you’ll bump into a fae latter, when we set things right. And hey, you’ll be in a place to help them, won’t you.”

“How so?”

“Tell them what’s up. We, my Joan and I, travel through worlds carefully and deliberately, most people who find themselves in the wrong universe get their by accident and are confused and disoriented. If another fae does show up in your world they’ll show up near you and seek you out.” Cherie cleared her throat, “It’s a big assumption though. And you won’t know for a long time… but hay, best you’re informed.” Her lips twitched and her eyes shined. Joan couldn’t help but glow at the genuine sighs of happiness and affection in this woman.

The waitress came with the check and Joan trained her tea.

“So what’s next?” She asked as they walked through a park, the first rays of sun fighting to rise above the horizon.

“Finding a weak spot.”

“No, I mean how do we do that?”

“Uh, well I can sense the weak spots, and then if my power’s not enough to break through I’ll have to phone Bell…”

“Marcus Bell?”

“Yes, Marcus Bell. I um, I have very weak magic. Just enough to sense things. Bell’s average, and like I said, Joanie’s powerful.”

“Why do you call her ‘Joanie’?”

Cherie stopped walking and stared at Joan. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Joan continued walking, hoping Cherie would start again (she did), “Just, I would be very displeased if Sherlock called me that.”

“Why?”

“It’s what my friends call me. And, Sherlock and I…”

“Aren’t friends?”

“It’s complicated. He addresses everyone formally. That he would make an exception for me would make me uncomfortable.”

“Ah.”

“And I noticed you call the Detective Inspector by his last name?”

“Bell?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, well… me and Joanie have talked about how we address each other. Where is Kitty, in your world?”

“Kitty? Oh, I found out about her earlier this month, why?”

“I’ve just found that ‘where’s Kitty’ is a great way to find out how my personal timeline matches up with an alter ego’s time line. Kitty currently lives in Chicago. She spread her wings and takes in apprentices of her own now.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed, so that means my personal time line is maybe 5 or 6 years ahead of yours.”

“Wow.”

“You take on an apprentice by the way.”

“I do?”

“Well, in this world, yes. Her name is Merry and she’s very, very sweet.”

“Oh… What does um, ‘Joanie’ call you?”

“What?”

“I mean, you call her by a nick name. I would be surprised-”

“ _Cher_. Joanie calls me Cher.”

“Oh.”

“You’re trying to puzzle this out.”

“Well it’s very different.” Joan crossed her arms.

“You could just ask.”

“You’re more talkative than anyone meant to resemble Sherlock.”

Cherie smiled.

“And more expressive.”

“I’ve spent a decade or so with my Joanie. I know you’re not her, like you know I’m not Sherlock, but that doesn’t mean all that- that familiarity, that _connection_ just… disappears. I’m talkative and expressive because I’ve grown into myself. A large part thanks to Joanie.”

Joan could feel herself smiling again, even though this wasn’t Sherlock. It wasn’t the brilliant lonely man she’d supported for the past three or so years. This wasn’t the result of her care and friendship, but someone else's. Still… “That explains it.” She whispered almost wistfully.

And Cherie was smiling, shifting a little awkwardly as they ambled through the park.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“No really, what is it.”

The tips of Cherie’s ears where pink, which might have been from the cold, but the flush spread down her neck as well. She turned her head away.

“What? No really, what?”

“You’re just… cute when you smile like that.”

Joan blinked, “Really, like what?”

“Like… you’re proud of yourself, content, happy with life. Like… you’re _proud_ of me. Proud of the person you helped me become.”

Joan couldn’t stop smiling.

“But, um, you’re not quite Joanie.”

“No. But this is like, almost a little glimpse into my future. And a future where you, I mean, Sherlock, I mean… I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Do you want a future where your happy, with, uh, Sherlock?”

Joan almost tripped on her feet. “I mean, I want to be happy, and with Sherlock. But, I- I don’t want to be his- his…” Saying “girlfriend” and “Sherlock’s” in the same thought seemed so ludicrous that Joan couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I’ve meet a good number parallel universe Joan’s in my life time.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, because of the close bond we’ve almost always shared-”

“When would you say this bound first formed?”

“When I stole your- Joanie’s- medical bag and filled it with legos-”

“To threaten a man with torture, I remember.”

Cherie smiled. “Yes, that’s when. Why?”

“Nothing, just trying to understand. Anyway, continue.”

“Ever since then Joan and I have been running into our alter egos. Alter egos tend to be attracted to their other self, but when two people are as close as we were -are- they tend to start running into the other’s other self.”

“Anyway,” Cherie continued, “I bring this up because I’ve met a Joan who stayed single all her life, who was content and happy with the close friendships she’d made and the people she helped. I’ve met a Joan who settled down with Marcus Bell. A Joan who went off with Kitty to LA. A Joan who married Merry. And all these Joans, well we end up crossing paths because they share a deep connection with their Sherlock or Cherie back in their world.”

“But you and Joanie?”

Cherie pulled the glove off her hand and showed Joan the ring. It was silver, with elaborate etchings carved across it’s surface.

“I don’t think I could ever marry Sherlock.”

Cherie laughed. “I bet Joanie would have said that, oh, five years ago.”

“You’ve been married for five years?”

“No, no. That’s just… when I told her I’d induced that I had romantic feelings for her.”

“… That is… that’s definitely a thing Sherlock would say.”

Cherie’s smile was infectious. “We’ll I’d never been in love like that before. I’m sure this Sherlock and I share the same feelings on sexual intimacy. That it’s just a need to be met?”

Joan nodded.

Cherie continued, “Well that… I don’t know if I’d even call it ‘sexual attraction’ was all I’d knew of romantic/sexual relationships. And then this amazing woman with so much potential and power walks into my life and shows me what it means to honestly be cared for. I mean, I’d had a friend before yes. Another, a man, fellow addict, who cared for me, about me. But Joanie, she showed me that other people, Bell, Lestrade, my sister, cared about me in their own ways. And Joanie… she taught me how to see these things. How to grow attached. That it was worth it.” 

Cherie laughed, “I brought out the best of detective in her. And She brought out the best person in me. Just… god, I’ve gotten away from myself… I’d never really even known friendship before, let alone any romantic connection. And I’d was resigned to living my life the best way I knew how. So it took me a long time to figure out what I was feeling…”

“What about Irene?”

“Jamie Morality?” 

“Yeah, her?”

“When I found out who she was, how she gaslighted and used me, I questioned so deeply my feelings for her, their are love spells in my world, you understand, that I had persuaded myself I’d fooled myself, looking for that spark of romance.  And besides, with that their was um, sexual desire which I recognize in both her and myself. It was familiar. Something I understood.”

Cherie watched Joan for a few seconds then said, “There’s something you’re not asking because you think it would be rude.”

“I-”

“No, no, go head and ask.”

“Do you and Joanie have sex?”

“Only once in a blue moon, and it’s always more of a, shall I say a, ‘group activity.’”

“Parallel Universe me has orgies?”

Cheire laughed. “In a manor of speaking yes. If that concerns you, don’t worry, it wasn’t your idea.”

“It was yours?”

“Actually, - Let me back up. Our arrangement is this. I don’t feel any desire to copulate with Joanie. Joanie doesn’t care so much one way or the other. So we have an open relationship. It’s usually the girls I bring home who get so excited to meet my wife.”

“That’s…”

“An alternative ‘life style’ that works for everyone involved, yes.”

“It’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Are you surprised you feel that way?”

“A little.”

“Stop! This is the place.” They’d walked through the park and down a few city blocks. Joan had stopped paying attention. Cherie had stopped in front of an alley way. Once she’d made sure Joan was following her, she strode forward to one of the garages that backed the alley. She pulled out a long knife with runes and knot worked spiraling around the blade.

“What are you going to do?”

“See if I can’t cut a door way to the other side. I might not be strong enough, but I can try.”

Cherie edged the blade into the siding, it slid in, inch by inch, without seeming to damage the building. Cherie gritted her teeth, but once she got it in, she carved out the shape roughy of a doorway with ease.

“There we go” she said, as the siding fell away to reveal a pitch blackness beyond.

“We just jump in there?”

“Yep.” Cherie grabbed Joan’s hand. “On three. One. Two. Three!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joan shatters Sherlock's word view. Completely. Utterly.

_A tracking spell… will the “new age” shoppes, or whatever they have here sell the ingredients?_  Joan trailed Sherlock through the precinct as she searched places likely to sell what she needed.  Of course almost none of the stores had an online presence.

Getting some wolf’s blood was going to be the hardest. She could wander around kennels looking for the wolf mistaken for a dog, or, more likely, a half wolf half dog. But she didn’t really want to saddle her alter ego with a pet, even if it would only be for a short time.

She chewed her lip absently as another problem occurred to her.  _Where do I live?_  Altered time lines were always a shaky when it came to that. She could have moved back into her old apartment, could have been forced to get a new one (which could be anywhere), could live at the brown store with Cheri-Sherlock.

“Watson?”

She looked up from her phone, where she’d just google her full name. Hoping for… something. “What?”

Sherlock was several paces ahead of her, he worked his jaw for a few moments before striding back up the stairs and whispering to you.

“Watson, you’ve been very…” he gestured, seemingly unable to find the correct adjective to describe Joan’s behavior. “today, I would you’ve worked this out, you’ve, you’ve been keeping something from me. But I know you. And, now, you and I both know that that was too much meat for a single dog to eat. Even, even a very big dog. And that it’s very uncharacteristic for dogs to-”

“I am.” Joan cut in, still fiddling with her phone.

“What?”

“Sherlock… don’t yell.” She continued down the steps, having found the address to a detective practice separate to Sherlock. That answers a few questions about the time line. “I said” once Sherlock had caught up to her, “That I am hiding something from you.”

“But, but… why?”

He sounded betrayed, just a small heart beat of emotion underlying his words.

“If this is about what I’ve done, Watson-”

She stops and turns to him, observing him. “Sherlock” He cringes at the way she says his name. (Too sweet, too much like she would say “Cherie”) “This has nothing to do with that.” She tries with more conviction.

“But- Then…” He licks his lips, “I can’t think of- Watson, why?”

She sighs, runs a hand through her hair. There’s no good way to break the news. “I’m- I’m…” Was she really going to say ‘I’m not Joan Watson?’. This would be easier if this universe’s Joan was a John. “Listen, the NYPD can’t handle this attack. It’s not anything they’ve ever seen before.” A variety of micro expressions flit across Sherlock’s face. She exhales, “I’m not doing a very good job of this. I’m not your Joan Watson.”

That earns her a real expression. Sherlock makes to say something but Joan talks over him. “I’m from a parallel universe. Where magic is real. And werewolves are real. And traveling from universe to universe is not only possible, it’s as easy as walking through the right door.”

There is a long silence. Joan returns to her phone putting the lists of shoppes and shelters into a sensible order.

Sherlock takes an indrawn breath.

“‘Whatever remains however improbable must be the truth.’” Joan quotes at him, a smiling pulling up at her lips.

She can hear Sherlock deflate. “Well… a werewolf would explain it.”

“The autopsy will show that the attacker is infected but it will be an unfamiliar strain.”

“Lycanthropy shows up as rabies?”

“It’s detected by the testing. I suppose it could be mistaken for rabies, but it’s not likely.”

Sherlock nodded.

Joan watched him, head still bent over her phone. “You’re… taking this well.”

“It wouldn’t do to make a scene.”

Joan smiled, imagining the unsettled, fidgeting mess he’d be once he got back to the brown stone. “I can handle this. You should go home.”

“But I have questions!”

“I can answer them later. You need to let this sink in and I need to find a werewolf.”

“How will you do that.”

“I’ll cast a spell. And I said, Sherlock, I’ll answer your questions. Later.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Home sweet home!” Cheri sing songed after picking the lock to her alternate universe self’s flat.

Sherlock stood in the entry way, single stick posed and at the ready.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Cheri scolded him. She took off her coat and dropped it with a heavy thud in the corner.

Joan came in behind her, and said, “Hi, Sherlock.” In a soft, dazed voice, then, “How did you get is so close to the right spot?”

“No idea.” Cheri said, “Probably just chance. Joanie would have been able to get us _inside_ the house not a few blocks away. But anyway, ta-da! My part of all this is done.” She flopped on one of the sofas.

“Will you please explain what is going on?”

Cheri sighed and then started in on the tale again.

 

Joanie started with the wolf blood. There was no point in doing the spell without it. She spent all day going to kennel to kennel. It’s much the same as kennels everywhere. Big, mean looking dogs that just want to cuddle, and over grown rats which snap and snarl and have way too many issues to be good pets.

She found herself at the last one on her list. It claimed that spot because it was the smallest and most out of the way, a last resort. And there, in the first cage she comes to, is a wolf mistaken for a dog. When it turns around and gets a look at the tail she sees it’s more than that. It’s a half werewolf half wolf. (1. YUCK. 2. She couldn’t just leave it here to get adopted by some family who won’t know what they’re up against. So much for avoiding getting alternate universe self an unexpected pet.)

She took it back to the brown stone because that’s almost definitely where Cheri and her other self are, if they’ve made it through yet. Hopefully Cheri’s already there and has explained to Sherlock what’s up. Tomorrow, she’ll get the rest of the ingredients for the store.

And- oh, she pulls into Petsmart. Because now she needs some other supplies.  

 

She got into the brown stone past midnight, lock picking her way in. “Cheri?”

“Here.” She mumbled form the sofa.

Joanie led the part wolf over to the sitting area. It nosed Cheri in the face and Cheri made an offended noise.

“You found one.” Cheri grumbled.

“It’s half werewolf half wolf.”

“Ew.”

“I know.” Joan said grimily. “Anyway, I’ll get enough supplies to do two spells, one for our werewolf and one for any others that might be in the area. We can tell the higher ups about it. They can officially cut the worlds of. But…”

“We can’t take a half werewolf back with us if the other half is a mundane wolf.”

“Do you think my other half will take it in?”

“Yep. She seemed really enamored by magic. Go for it.”

Joanie laughed, then said, “How did Sherlock take the news?”

“Went into a shutdown, but I think he’ll be okay in the morning.”

“Even with the half werewolf?”

Cheri made a face, “We could just not tell him about the half werewolf.”

Joanie kissed her. “Whatever you think is best.” She took one of the arm chairs to sleep in.

 

The spell was no big deal. Not when they _had_ to call in for backup.

They were, Joanie and Cheri, back home where they belong before the weekend was up.

 

Sherlock was still rattled and had said to Joan, “So it doesn’t matter, does it? That - that there’s,” he gestured wildly, shaken.

Joan couldn't help but smile it him.

“Magic! They, the magic… people, protect us from it? So it doesn’t matter.”

“It might.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cheri told me I could be, and I quote, ‘a witch in a mundane world’.”

Sherlock gapped at her. 

Joan hid her grin behind her mug, knowing Sherlock would see it in her eyes anyway. “So…”

“We also have a half werewolf half wolf now - what, they didn’t tell you? Well, they told me it wouldn’t be much trouble. That it’ll be just like a normal dog but that I should feed it raw meat on the full moons.”

**Author's Note:**

> For my femslash trope bingo, "mistaken identity".  
> Find me on tumblr at Dusty-Soul.tumblr.com  
> Also, I'm looking for a beta for my Elementary fics. I don't know how to go about finding one, since I'm so far behind in cannon and only really lurking in fandom. Any advise or help on this matter is most welcome  
> The struggle between, "I want reader's to be surprised!" and "I want to tag this properly" is kind of intense.
> 
> \--
> 
> Feel free to message or follow me on tumblr at dusty-soul.tumblr.com


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